


Transcendent

by phoebemaybe



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dreams, F/M, Fluff, Modern AU, Reincarnation, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-07-24 16:59:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16179335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoebemaybe/pseuds/phoebemaybe
Summary: Could there be something that draws people towards one another? Perhaps a red thread of fate had been spun long ago binding individuals that were meant to meet together? Or perhaps it was a promise made during a previous life being fulfilled in this life?This is a tale of a love so strong that one lifetime spent together could never be enough, a tale of souls so intricately intertwined even death could never tear them apart.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been in my notes for about a year now. I’ve been saving this until I get at least a few chapters done before posting and now I think the time is right :).
> 
> PLEASE prepare some tissues for this short little prologue chapter. I’ve already made a few ppl cry when I showed them. I’m very sorry in advance for any tears I cause! Enjoy~~~

The King lay in bed, his queen sat by him, determined to be with him till the end. It was time. But she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready to let her love go.

“I was brought back to life for a reason. I still believe it was to meet you.” The King rasped. “Together, we saved the people, we changed the fate of this kingdom.”  
  
“We did quite the job, didn’t we?” The Queen bit back a sob. It took years of hard work and effort to clean out the muck, the corruption and scum left behind by monarchs in the past before a semblance of an orderly, proper functioning kingdom began to form and even more years before there was prosperity and peace throughout the realm.  
  
The king hummed, nodding. “ _You_ did a splendid job. I just stood by your side.” His movements were jerky. He was so tired. Lifting a shaky hand, he tucked a lock of silver grey hair behind his queen’s ear, lingering softly, tracing down the side of her cheek, along the lines by her eyes that age had etched into her skin over the years. She loathed them but to him, she looked just as beautiful as the day he set eyes on her. Coming back to life must have been the greatest thing to happen if it meant meeting her by doing something everyone thought ludicrous, sailing South.   
  
Brushing back a curl from his forehead, the Queen shook her head vehemently at him. “You’ve been my sturdy pillar of support all this while. I couldn’t have done it without you.” She wouldn’t let him discredit himself. He was her everything. He had given her a second chance at the life she’d always dreamt of since she was little. “Thank you for helping me get my home back.”  
  
“I would do it all again in a heartbeat if it meant making you smile. You’ve been through so much shit, you deserve all the happiness.”   
  
Her selfless king, always trying to make her feel better, even on his dying day. Placing a kiss to the back of his wrinkly hand, she said: “Thank you for everything” Another kiss. “Thank you for giving me hope.” Turning his hand over, she kissed his calloused palm. “Thank you for giving me a family, when I thought I had no one left, when I was so sure I couldn’t have my own flesh and blood.” The floodgates opened and her tears sprung free, tracking down her face like raindrops. “Thank you... for loving me.”  
  
The king smiled that sweet smile that she loved so much. Age did nothing to tamper the tenderness in his features. “And I’ll love you forever, in perpetuity.”

The queen's heart clenched tight at that word, the word she had said to him all those years ago, the very first time they met. Her lips wobbled, more tears slid down her cheeks, dripping from her chin onto the bed sheets. How was she to live without seeing that smile every morning they woke? How was she to live without hearing him say he loved her? She’d never be able to tell her she loved him anymore. Loss was no stranger to her but this one hurt so much more. The queen’s voice cracked: “How am I going to live out the rest of my days without you?”  
  
“With the knowledge that we’ll meet again one day.” His promise trailed off into a coughing fit. The queen rubbed her palm in circles on his chest, shushing him, urging him to rest, to not speak anymore. Grabbing hold of her hand with trembly fingers, he stopped her movements. He needed to get his words out to her. He could feel himself succumbing to the pull of slumber, time was running out. Pressing her palm to his heart he made her a solemn vow, his words coming out in ramblings as his breaths grew shorter and shorter: “I will find you. Someday we will meet again. In our next life, and the next, in every life to come. We might not look like how we do now, but I will find you. That I promise you. I have faith that my soul will join with yours once more.”  
  
His weeping queen nodded. She didn’t know if that would be possible, but in that moment, she wanted nothing more than to spend another lifetime with him. “I’ll wait for you.” If he didn’t find her, she vowed that she would seek him out instead. No matter what, they would be together.  
  
“I love you, my beautiful dragon queen.”   
  
“I love you so much, my darling.” The queen stroked his temple lovingly. “I’ll miss you.”  
  
“I’ll see you very soon.” With that the king closed his eyes for a final time, his heart slowed to a stop, beating no more, only to be awakened in his next life.   
  
The grieving queen kissed her husband one last time on his lips, storing the feel of his touch away in her mind and heart. As her teardrops fell with the closing of her eyes, she made a wish. Praying to the powers that be, the stars above, the seven gods, the old gods and the new, she prayed that the vow her king made to her would come true, that fate would be kind and let their souls find each other again. Because one lifetime alone was not close to being enough to spend with her soulmate. Any life without his soul joined with hers would be a joyless one.   
  
Unbeknownst to her, the heavens heard her wish loud and clear. A new destiny was being written in the stars. All the queen had to do now, was wait. Wait till the day their eyes met once more, be it amongst a bustling crowd or across a room full of strangers. They would find each other. Always.


	2. Chapter 1: Once Upon A Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new life, a new reality, a new world, a new start. Thus, begins our tale of two souls, destined to find one another to rekindle a love that was forged many, many years before their time. Will this love story unfold as it should? Will two strangers be able to fall for one another? Or will they flee from their fates?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe hi again! I apologize immensely once again for making some if not all of you guys cry. I hope this chapter helps cheer you guys up! Here's to the start of a new story! Enjoy~

"Oh, bugger.”

His elbow connected with a paintbrush lying on its side, sending it toppling head first over the edge of his workbench. Its bristles were still wet with paint as it plummeted through the air, coming to land on the floor with a clatter. Reaching down to grab his trusty paint brush, a bright splash of colour caught the painter's attention. On its way down, the brush had streaked a line of orange across the blank canvas that was propped up against the leg of his easel. The orange paint adorning the canvas conjured up a vision of fire, flashing through his mind. 

_Scorching Dragonfire._

He needed to paint.

Lifting the canvas from the ground, he set it on his easel. Uncapping his paints, he squirted several dollops of them onto his well-used palette. Settling himself upon his familiar stool, he picked up his brush, moistening its tip with water before dipping it in the paint and set to work. 

As a prodigal artist, Jon had been painting all his life. Strokes came easily, almost naturally as his mind wandered freely through his imagination. His mother used to say that he was born with a paintbrush in his hand and given some paint, he could create pictures that captivated everyone that laid eyes on them. When he was a child, no more than seven, a number of his art pieces had even been displayed in art galleries and sold for extremely high prices. All he needed was some paint, his trusty brush and his hands would do the rest. He simply smiled every time Catelyn Stark would gush about his achievements at such a young age to her friends. Those were moments when he felt so glad to stand out for once from his five siblings who all had an artistic, scholarly talent of some kind. Nowadays though, he preferred the anonymity more, selling his work mainly online through his shop to anyone around the world who wanted to buy them.

Besides his artistic gift, he was born with a unique quirk - the ability to lucid dream. Since he was old enough to remember, his nights were plagued with dreams of a life he never lived. Or at least he thought so. How could he have? The images and words that appeared in his sleep were nonsensical almost. Words, and sentences, meaninglessly circulating in his head. They were too outrageous.

As a boy, he saw himself training outside in a castle courtyard, alone, training on a dummy with a wooden sword. That image of the lone boy who looked like him always filled him with loneliness. As he grew older, he saw glimpses of himself wielding a real sword, hacking at the gruesome zombie-like creatures, cutting them down. He saw himself scaling a wall of ice. He saw himself riding on the back of an emerald green fire-breathing dragon.

He told his parents about them but they always shrugged it off and said it was just his overactive imagination. They all felt so real to him as if he were transported out of his body in his sleep and plonked into a medieval world. His dreams were uncanny but his nightmares were things of terror. During his nightmares, he saw himself being stabbed repeatedly. It was so real that he felt the pain of each stab to his torso and the last one to the heart. He felt his life slip away, as his blood seeped into the snow under him and he succumbed to the cold embrace of death. For a long while, there was only darkness. Until, he awoke with a start, drenched in cold sweat and heaving. Instinctively, his palms drifted to his chest, searching for the seven distinct stab wounds that marred his body in his dreams. There would be none, expect a dull ache beneath his crescent-shaped birthmark above his heart. Every nightmare was the same. All he saw was his death. How could something so horrific be real? 

He had no inkling why he had these dreams. Nonetheless he knew he had to do something, something to remember them by. A voice in his mind and heart told him these dreams were of crucial importance. So, he did what he did best. He painted them all since he was a boy. The collection grew from scrap pieces of paper, to sketch pads to canvases that currently lined the walls of his art studio. He kept them all. Over time, he even began incorporating some of the things he saw in these fleeting dreams into his regular art pieces. His customers seemed to love them quite a bit.

Lately, his dreams have evolved somewhat, to include someone new. He saw a woman. He didn’t know her name, but she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Every part of her was, from her silver hair to her piercing purple eyes, her plump peach pink lips and smooth alabaster skin.

It was like looking through a window into an alternate reality. He would see the man who wore his face with this beautiful lady. They were so happy together, so in love. The utter adoration that shone in the king’s eyes for his queen filled Jon with awe. It felt almost intrusive, watching their intimate moments, sharing stolen kisses in alcoves of their castle, holding each other in bed as they drifted off to sleep. Would he ever get to experience a love like that in real life? A love so deep, so pure, so strong that it survived through so many losses and wars. 

Would he get to meet his own true love? Jon wondered as he added the finishing touches to his painting. True love in this day and age? In a world so full of cynicism and hatred? It's a nice notion but reality is rarely that generous. A love so sweet would most likely be too good to be true.

With each stroke of his brush, his vision of black and red came into creation, fearsome and monstrous. 

_Drogon._

Adding some black to the golden amber hued pupils of his mythical creation, the painting was complete. Dunking his paintbrush into the jug of water by his easel, Jon sat back on his stool to appraise his work.

The black dragon with accents of red upon the ridges on his back and the underside of his wings hovered in mid-air with fire spewing from his gaping jaws against a backdrop of white snow and ice, his red-hot flames ploughing through a hoard of dead soldiers, incinerating them to dust.

It looked pretty good if he could say so himself, a near perfect recreation of his dream. With a pleased nod, he reached over to grab the can of fixation spray and sprayed a thin coat over the surface of the painting.

“There,” Jon exclaimed.

His phone rang just then, breaking the silence of his studio. Dipping his fingers into his pocket, he retrieved the vibrating, jingling device. Looking at the caller ID, Jon smiled.

“You’re up early for once little sis. Who are you and what have you done with Arya Stark?” Jon couldn’t help teasing his wild child of a sister. “And on a Sunday no less? You didn’t have a late night?”

“You know I did. But honestly, Jon. Can’t a girl ever be awake at a reasonable hour?” He could hear her annoyance through the phone.

Chuckling, Jon clamped his phone between his shoulder and ear as he placed the cap over his glass jar. He would have to tip out the water later on. “Sure you can. But we both know that a reasonable hour for you starts at noon. Given it’s Sunday, this must have something to do with our mum.”

Arya groaned. “Can’t believe she wants us to go for brunch at this hour. Midday won’t be here for another two hours.”

“It’s good to spend time with the family.” Jon simply shrugged. She couldn’t see it but it came as a natural reaction. “Play nice with mum okay?”

A drawn-out groan came for the other end. Jon imagined Arya having her face stuffed into her pillow. Her eventual grunt and begrudging ‘fine...’ in his ear from the other end of the line enticed a chuckle out of him.

His little sister was a free-spirited, strong-willed young lady. Like all the other children in his family, Arya had a talent as well. Hers was closest to his. She was a part-time freelancing wall mural artist with a knack of graffiti art. Her ideal time to do her work was late in the night. According to her, that’s when her mind is the most active and creativity came easiest. Her current project was a street art gallery. A gallery in the laneways behind buildings where no one usually traversed in hopes that it would encourage people to explore their city more.

“Anyway.... on to more pleasant topics.” Jon heard Arya clear her throat. “I’ll be coming over to Paris in a bit!”

“That’s great! When will you be here?” Jon was delighted. Ever since he decided to move from London to Paris to bask in the culture in the vibrant city of love, he hadn’t seen his family in quite some time now.

Arya hummed, thinking when she could leave her gallery which was very much still a work in progress. “We’ll have to see when we get done with more murals. Iris and I thought it’d be fun to have a short break before we launch officially. Somewhere not too far away from home. So, I suggested Paris! It shouldn’t be long now, we have a few more walls to cover.”

“That’s awesome, Arya! I have no doubt you’ll do a great job.” His baby sister utilizing her dream and talent for good he couldn’t be prouder of her. He couldn’t curb the well of emotions gurgling, welling up to push at his ribs, puffing up his chest. His baby sister was growing up so fast. “I’ll give you the biggest hug you’ve ever received as a reward when I see you.” 

“A hug? That’s it? Thanks so very much.”

“Hey, didn’t you once say I gave the best hugs?”

“I was five and in desperate need of comfort after scraping the skin off my knee from tumbling down a hill.”

The siblings laughed together for a few moments before a deep sigh filled Jon’s ear. “I wish you were here though. It’s less fun without you. I miss you, dear brother.” His sister muttered quietly into the receiver. 

“I miss you too. I can’t wait for you to get here.”

After saying a quick goodbye to his sister, Jon hung up and headed to his kitchen. Time to get on with his day. First on his agenda, breakfast. An omelette or maybe a sandwich with coffee. Tugging open the metallic door of his fridge, Jon peered inside. “Well....” The fridge was desolately empty, only a lone sad lemon, a bottle of milk that had probably gone bad, condiments and the like, occupied the space. He’d been so busy with his orders lately, groceries were the last thing on his mind. “Cafe down the street it is then.” 

Burlap shopping bag now stuffed full with groceries for the week and his breakfast purchased, still warm to the touch, Jon made his way back home. The advantage of living just above a market street meant there was food all around, easily accessible. You just had to step outside. Shifting the bag from one arm to the other, he retrieved his breakfast from its makeshift paper home before taking a hearty bite. The flaky pastry crumbled in his mouth, coating his taste buds with an explosion of rich buttery flavour. Monsieur Seaworth, as the baker liked to call himself, made pastries that tasted like heaven in every bite. 

“Jon. Jon Snow.” 

Pausing mid-munch, Jon glanced to his right. A lady was standing on the curb outside the fortune teller shop. A chill swept up his spine at the peculiar grin quirking at her lips.

“Umm... My name is Jon yes, but it’s not Snow. It’s Stark.”

The lady took a step onto the cobblestone road, unhindered by his words. “I know your dreams, Jon Snow. I know the things you see every night in your sleep.”

A torrent of goose bumps rose to attention all over his body. Who was this lady? He stood frozen on the spot and his mouth went dry as his stomach began to pitch and roll. How could someone know when he never, ever revealed that part of himself to anyone?

“She has come, Jon. She is here, very close by.” Lifting her arm, she pointed a slender finger in the direction of the bustling market up the slope. “The woman that you see in your dreams.” The strange lady in red spoke, taking another step forward. Jon gulped, recoiling slightly at the quickly diminishing gap between them. The lady kept walking still. Peering at Jon with unblinking eyes, she glided closer and closer toward him, completely unperturbed by the filth and grime staining the ends of her swishing velvet dress that trailed along the ground as she moved.

“Find her, Jon Snow.Go to the place where many people traverse and sell their wares.” The fortune teller implored. Now standing directly in front of him, Jon could see an unnerving gleam in her eyes. Her voice had an oddly serene tone about it almost as if she were reciting, reciting some sort of cryptic prophecy aloud. “You need to find her. You need to make her believe you.” 

“Believe? In what...?” 

“She won’t believe you until you show her. Show her your paintings.”

As her next words tumbled from blood red her lips, his half-eaten croissant slipped from his slackened grip and landed onto the cobblestone with a mute thump. Jon’s heart leapt into his throat and his blood lost its warmth.

“Show her your dreams.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dunnnn hehe. 
> 
> Hope you guys are enjoying this fic. Next chap should be a fun hehe! As usual, do tell me what you guys think. I'd love to know your thoughts :)
> 
> See ya next time! Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 2: Found You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frantically running in search of his dream lover, Jon ponders whether this was all too outlandish? Would he find her? If he did, how would he convince her that they were meant to be with each other?

Skirting around a stall selling an assortment of roasted nuts with a string of ‘excuse me’s and ‘coming through’s upon his tongue, Jon darted through the crowd, oblivious of the disgruntled sounds of exclamations and curious looks from the nameless people roaming the market. His eyes frantically scanned the throngs of flâneurs and tourists, searching for that one person whose visage had only thus far lived in his mind. Even the delicious smells of various food items swirling around him did nothing to draw his attention away from his search.  
  
Where was she? How could she even exist in this time? She couldn’t, could she? If she did, was she immortal? Why the heck was he even trusting the words of a psychic who was very likely to be a complete whack job? How was he to even find her when all he had was the occasional glimpse of her face in his sleep? What if she didn’t even have that face anymore?! So many questions ricocheted about in his skull as he wove and ducked through the crowd. He had to try. If there was even a slim chance that the queen who ruled his dreams day and night could be living in this reality, he’d be an idiot to not seize it.   
  
Passing through a gush of steam from a nearby coffee machine, a flash of silver gold amongst the cattle like herd of humans ahead of him had his heart lurching to a momentary stop. A woman with a head full of strands that shifted between a warm gold and silver that gleamed like the stars under the light of day.   
  
_Could it really be her?_  
  
He had to know for certain. Hugging his groceries closer to his chest with renewed determination and a glimmer of hope flickering like a minute flame within his chest, Jon pushed his way through the hungry shoppers waiting in line by the falafel truck and onto the path of that mysterious woman.   
  
Eyes never leaving her, he observed as she lingered by the fruit stand. He couldn’t hear what she was saying yet but he could see her gesturing at the pile of shiny red apples up for purchase. He had to get closer.   
  
As the distance shrunk between them, he could see her profile and boy was she a vision to behold. The woman looked so much like the queen in his dreams. Her hair, her skin, her eyebrows, her nose, her plump lips and especially her smile that seemed to light up her whole face. There was no way someone could be the exact carbon copy of another person from a dream his brain cooked up.   
  
Seeing this woman smile and laugh as she chatted away with the rotund shopkeeper roused a foreign but so very splendid sort of emotion from the very depths of his being. Something clicked, like a switch being flicked on to illuminate a hidden room within his heart, an empty space made just for that woman right in front of him to belong. A joyous breath of laughter found its way out of his mouth.   
  
_He had found her._  
  
Now, how was he to convince her that they could very possibly have a connection that tied them together. Sucking in a breath to calm his nerves, he decided to take the leap and hope for the best that she wouldn’t run for the hills when he approached her.  
  
“Excuse me miss, could I speak with you for a moment?”   
  


* * *

Hearing a Northern accented voice from behind her, Dany turned around to see a man. His deep brown eyes were peering intently at her. The man had a messy head of curls that matched his dark eyes. A lock of his curls fell gently to rest over his left eye. To top off his already handsome features, a scruffy well-trimmed beard framed the bottom half of his face. She had to admit, he was really, really good looking, in a masculine, rugged heartthrob sort of way. Her heart skipped a beat followed by a pang of familiarity and fondness washing over her as she took in his visage. An image of a man reaching out his hand to caress a dragon’s snout floated through her mind. Had she seen him somewhere before?

“This is going to sound very forward and stalker like. But, um... Do you know me?” His eyes scanned her face for any hint of recognition from her, only to be met with a blank stare. The man squirmed on the spot, further explaining: “You see, I’m an artist and I’ve painted many, many pieces of art. A number of them feature a woman who looks like you. I’ve been trailing you for a while now. You really look just like her!”  
  
Her large violet eyes scrunched up into a squint, trying to place that sense of familiarity, to recall if they’ve met in the past. Nothing came up. “You must have me mistaken with someone else. I have never seen you in my life before today.”   
  
“Oh, we haven’t met in real life. I meant, I’ve seen you in my dreams.” The man stated. “Have you by any chance seen me in yours?”   
  
That crazy fortune teller better be right about this. Jon prayed.   
  
“What?” Dreams? “Is that supposed to be a pick-up line? If it is, it’s horribly cheesy.”   
  
_Dreams._  
  
“No! No, no. I’m not hitting on you. Not that I wouldn’t, you’re gorgeous.” Realizing his slip up, the man’s mouth snapped shut as his ears turned red.   
  
This woman was even more mesmerizing up close. Tracking her for a good while to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him, he could tell she was just as beautiful as the woman he saw in his dreams. Other than her shoulder length locks, they were the splitting image of each other. And the way his heart sped up when he laid eyes on this petite lady, weaving her way between the market stalls, browsing the wares was exactly how his dream self felt, stepping into her throne room. He had found her. The woman of his dreams.   
  
“Why thank you.” Dany smirked. This stranger was surprisingly cute.   
  
_She won’t believe you until you show her._    
  
“Anyway, I know it’s hard to believe but....” he sighed feeling frustrated. How do you convince a stranger that you saw them in your dreams without sounding like a lunatic? “Look, I’ll prove it to you. Come with me, please?”  
  
Dany didn’t know why she agreed to go with an unfamiliar man with a simple ‘Okay’ slipping out of her mouth. An intuitive impulse to follow a perfect stranger was completely insane but the sincerity in his eyes and that innate sense of familiarity compelled her to do so. That inexplainable tugging on her heart was an added push.   
  
“Thank you for this. I’m Jon, by the way. Jon Stark. I’m very sorry for the abruptness, for ruining your plans if you had any. Not to mention, I’m a total stranger. I must come off as very random, if not creepy. You must understand, I really need to show you this.” The painter rambled on.  
  
“Nice to meet you. I’m Dany Thorne and you didn’t ruin anything. I didn’t have much planned for this holiday anyway. Also, something tells me, you’re not a creep. You wouldn’t do something like this if it weren’t of great importance, would you?” She reassured him with a smile, matching his stride along the cobble stone streets, as he guided her through the streets back to his loft, groceries in tow. This man, this stranger, for some reason made her feel so safe with him, like a space that she hadn’t been aware of before in her chest had been filled. 

Turning up laneway, Dany followed the painter up a gently inclining slope before coming to a stop in front of an open doorway.    
  
“My apartment is just upstairs.” Climbing up a flight of rickety stairs, each step creaked under their weight. “I do apologize again for the abruptness of my behaviour.”  
  
“It’s all right, Jon. Really. Don’t apologize. Oh! Do you mind if I called you Jon?”   
  
Glancing down at her from under that lock of raven hair over his left eye, Jon murmured: “No. I’d like that actually.”   
  
Dany caught a slight hint of a smile on his lips which had her smiling back. She could have sworn she’d seen that smile before. But where? “I have to say I am curious myself. I’ve never met you before today and the same goes for you. So, how would you possibly have painted portraits of me?”  
  
“I don’t know... Your face just comes to me out of the blue.” Jon reflected aloud. That really was how it happened after all.  
  
Down the hallway to the right they went, passing one, two, three apartments before halting outside a white wooden door. “I hope you don’t mind the mess. I wasn’t expecting guests today.”   
  
“I’m an unexpected guest then huh? Can’t remember the last time I’ve been one. People usually want me around.” Dany couldn’t resist a tease at him as she watched the raven haired man fish out the right key from a bunch of three and insert it into the key hole.  
  
“Yes. You are a very unexpected one.” Jon nodded as he turned the key. The door unlocked with a click. “I am however, finding you to be very pleasant company and I most definitely want you around.” He added with quiet chuckle.  
  
Dany bit her lip with a light roll of her eyes and cheeks stained a slight pink. She was not expecting him to be flirty.   
  
Before he could turn the handle, the door to an apartment opposite his creaked open and out popped the golden unkempt head of a man. The man was shorter than herself, Dany observed in surprise. His height appeared to reach the middle of her torso. A pair of dark shades were perched on the bridge of his nose and in his hand, he clutched a clear glass beaker that held a rich purplish maroon liquid.   
  
“Ah! Jon! I thought I heard your dreamy voice! I’m hosting a party in about half an hour in celebration of my wine. After months of experimenting, I’ve finally managed to brew some that taste less like rancid grape juice and more like the delicious ambrosia of the gods. Everyone in the building is coming and you....” Waving the bottle before him like a conductor with his baton, the man exclaimed with a distinct slur to his voice. “Oh!” Pushing his glasses down his nose, the man paused mid speech to look at her almost like he suddenly noticed her presence. His blue eyes were unfocused and blurry as he swayed like a leaf in the wind before leaning heavily against his door frame. “And who may i ask, is this gorgeous creature?”  
  
“Good afternoon, Tyrion! Umm this is Dany. She’s a... friend. Dany, meet my neighbour, Tyrion.”  
  
“Hello there!” Dany gave Tyrion a quick wave and a laugh. The man was three sheets to the wind!   
  
“You’ve finally got yourself a girl! Let me drink to that! Well done, boy!” Tyrion mimicked the motion of giving a toast before taking a swig of the purple liquid from his beaker.   
  
“Unfortunately, we’re a bit busy at the moment. So...” Jon said to him, hand still around his door knob as if poised and ready to flee into the confines of his home. “Congratulations on the success of your wine though. I know how hard you’ve worked on it.”  
  
Dany’s brows rose up high as she looked between Jon and the shorter man in amusement. Did Tyrion really make homemade wine? Was that legal?  
  
“Ahh.... I see what you mean.” Just then, a chorus of girly giggles and sensual moans erupted from somewhere behind the shorter man. “Well... I best leave you youngsters to it then. I’ll send you a sample of my wine soon, Jon.” Tyrion left them with a waggle if his brows and a wink, before sidling back into his apartment. The meaning behind said waggle and wink were no mystery to the two individuals standing in the hallway.   
  
“Good lord. I’m so sorry about that.” Jon muttered, thoroughly embarrassed. “Tyrion can be a bit much.”  
  
“That was... something else. Are all your neighbours like him? Are they all so… colourful?”   
  
“Well....” Jon thought back to his interactions with the fellow residents of his building. From the cat lady upstairs who had ten cats, to the dancer who loved to bust a move in the nude two doors down, his building housed some of the most eccentric of individuals he’d ever met. “I’m not going to lie. Yes.”  
  
That drew another giggle from Dany. This trip was definitely turning out to be far more interesting than she anticipated.   
  
Turning the handle, Jon pushed the door in. Light spilled out from inside of his home and onto the dimly lit hallway, casting a trapezoid shaped glow of white on the floor.  
  
“Welcome to my home. Finally.” Jon said, holding the door open and gesturing for Dany to enter with a smile.  
  
Crossing the threshold as she allowed Jon to shut the door behind her, Dany took in the place that was his abode. There was a small living room on the right, complete with a comfy looking grey couch, a tall standing lamp and a glass coffee table a top a cream coloured rug. To the left was a small kitchen area with an island where Jon was pattering about, opening and closing cabinets and stocking the fridge with his groceries. Just by the living room was a pair of doors that swung open to a little balcony. It appeared to be a very cosy space, simple, but very quaint. A brightly lit home awash with sunlight, streaming in from the windows. A haven where creativity could roam free. 

“You have a lovely place and it’s not the least bit messy.” There wasn’t dirty laundry or rubbish strewn about anywhere to be seen. In fact, everything looked impeccably neat, without a speck of dust.  
  
“Well, you haven’t seen my work area.” Jon said closing the door to his fridge. He’d have to bring her there to show her his art in a bit.  
  
Cocking her head to a side, Dany thought for a moment before saying: “Doesn’t creativity usually come with a degree of messiness? You should see my writing desk. In fact, you should see my office when I get busy writing. I don’t come out for days on end and if somebody comes in, they don’t even realize I’m in there. You know why?”  
  
“Why?”   
  
“Because I’m usually hidden behind piles of paper, books and empty mugs stained with tea, so high that as you can imagine, someone as small as me would easily be drowned by them all.” Dany told him. “God knows how that hasn’t happened already!”  
  
Jon laughed at Dany’s sudden revelation. Chuckling along with him, Dany clasped her hands together in front of her belly, rocking a little on her feet as peals of feminine laughter swam through the air, coalescing with his deeper ones. He could just envision them laughing together about the silliest things over breakfast in the morning or any time during the day really. How strange to think like that of someone he just barely became acquainted with?   
  
“You’re a writer then?”  
  
“Mhmm. Well, I’m currently an editor for my father’s books. When he wants to publish one of course. One day, I’d like to have a book of my own. In the meantime, I write stories and post them online for fun.”   
  
The tone of pride in her voice was palpable. Jon instantly knew that she was someone who loved what she did for a living. She was adorable and a fellow creator! He liked her very much already.  
  
“So.... where are your art pieces, Jon? My curiosity is just dying to be appeased!” Dany admitted after their laughter quietened down, looking around the space once more. Her startlingly violet irises were glowing with eager anticipation and her grin sent his beating heart skipping like a gleeful child. Gosh, she was so very lovely.  

“Oh! That! Right this way, Dany. I’ll show you.” Jon lead them further into the apartment, towards a room in the back.  
  
Shockingly, he almost completely forgot about the whole reason he had brought her to his home. Being with her seemed so easy, so enjoyable. It felt as if his worries had all been thrown out of his mind to the furthest reaches of the earth! What a funny occurrence this was. But they did have things to do. Reeling himself back on track, it was time to get on with the main event.   
  


* * *

  
“Woah.”  
  
The likeness was uncanny. The woman really looked like a splitting image of her, down to the freckles dusting her cheek bones. They even had the exact same eye colour - a rare lilac purple.  
  
Growing up, people used to call her names and make fun of her for them. She hated them and would always go home crying when the school day was done. One fine afternoon, her mother calmed her down and lifted her onto her lap. Tenderly brushing away the last of her tears, her darling mummy told her astutely that there was no point in hating her eyes because one shouldn’t change what they were born with. Instead, she should love them. She was beautiful the way she was. So, from then on, little Dany faced her bullies head on, scaring them away with the promise to bite their heads off like the monster that they called her. As she grew older, she found people envied her purple irises, saying that they were so unique, going as far to ask her what contact lenses she had on. Turns out, being different wasn’t too bad. The people who love you will stay with you regardless of what your appearance was.   
  
The painted woman had her silver hair braided and coiled around her head with the rest falling freely down to her waist. The image captured strands of silver being picked up by the wind as she stood at the edge of a cliff, dressed in black, looking into the distance watching her children frolic in the sky. An odd sense of Déjà vucrept up upon Dany.  
  
_The dragons are my children. Children?_  
  
There were three of them, the biggest one was red and black, the middle one was green and red and the smallest one was a beautiful cream and gold.   
  
_Drogon, Rheagal and Viserion._    
  
The names resounded in her ears. Except.... How? How did he know what she dreamt?  All that she’d been seeing since she was a little girl. Her heart pounded. Taking a stumbling step back from his work, Dany sucked in a ragged breath as a scene flashed through her head.  
  
_Dragon eggs heated by the fire amidst a funeral pyre cracking, hatching, her babies huddling close to her naked body, unburnt by the licking flames as the wood around her charred and turned to ash._    
  
“How? What?” Shaking her head in disbelief, she breathed asking the handsome stranger as much as asking herself.  
  
“Like I said, I saw her in my dreams. So, I painted her.” Jon walked over to join her by the painting. “Ever since my childhood, I’ve been having these dreams at night about someone who was me, but not me. When I woke, I would paint the things I saw.”   
  
Tracing a finger over the canvas, over the rough, bumpy ridges of the brush strokes under her finger tips that created the orange, purple horizon the dragons were flying towards, Dany listened and her pulse started to race.   
  
“The things I see, they are just so realistic. It feels like an out of body experience of a life that isn’t my own. Definitely, not this life.”   
  
Swallowing deeply, she knew what he meant.

_Trekking through the haboob blowing across a desert, following a blood red comet. Her sweat dripping down her face, so famished she could faint from hunger and dehydration._

 She had never in her life been to a desert before. There weren’t any deserts in London.   
  
“These days, the dreams have changed from being focused on a man who looked like me to a woman.” Looking straight at her, he continued. “A woman, who looked just like you.”

Tilting her head to observe the man beside her, her eyes drifted over his features. Her mind finally placing where she had seen him before. He was the man of her dreams. The man who made up the half of the union of fire and ice with the queen who wore her face.   
  
“Wow, okay. This is really anomalous.” Taking a deep breath, she blinked rapidly, trying to gather her thoughts. Logic and reason were battling to accept the impossible. “These dreams.... do they happen to be set in the medieval ages?”  
  
“How did you know?”   
  
Holding up her hand indicating that he let her continue. “In these dreams, did you see yourself as a King?”  
  
_The queen of the Seven Kingdoms and her king stood on their balcony of the Red Keep, their new home, looking down at the city. The king had his arms around his queen, holding her close, looking forward to creating a new future for Westeros._  
  
“Umm yes.” He saw himself addressing his people as he sat upon his throne, looking to his right, he smiled at his silver haired queen, a feeling of warmth and love blooming in his chest. Jon felt that sensation once again just thinking about his dream. Looking at the woman in front of him who looked just like the queen in his dreams, oddly that sensation only swelled.   
  
Glancing up at him, Dany asked: “In your dreams, your queen who looked like me and your doppelgänger.... were the two of them involved?”   
  
His eyebrows drew into a deeper furrow with each passing question.  
  
“Yes. They were in love.” Jon nodded in affirmation. “Well, at least I think so. I could feel it in here.” He pointed at his chest. “The way the man and the woman looked at one another. They were very much besotted with each other. And the amount of snogging they did...” He coughed.   
  
“This is going to sound absolutely bonkers, but I think you deserve to know this.” Dany laughed a laugh of disbelief. “I think.... I may not be a hundred percent certain, but I think… I may be having those dreams too. The very same ones as you but from the queen’s point of view. In my dreams I saw myself married to a man from a snowy place in the North who looked just like you.”   
  
“Seriously?” Jon’s mouth fell open as he processed her words, trying to wrap his mind around her disclosure.  
  
His eyes were so wide they were almost bulging out of his head. He looked so comical Dany could have snorted.   
  
“We ruled as monarchs together over a place called Westeros, I believe.” she replied, moving to the next art piece, leaving a stunned Jon with his mouth agape.  
  
This one was equally beautiful. It was a painting of a wolf. The wolf was so white he blended in with the snowy background behind him. His intelligent eyes seemed to glow like garnets the deepest shade of red. Or, like the very blood pumping through my veins, Dany noted with morbid fascination. “He’s magnificent, Jon. You are very talented.”  
  
“Thank you. His name is Ghost. He’s the trusty dire wolf companion of mine or well, the guy with my face in my dreams.” Jon laughed wearily, rubbing a palm over his face. “I’m never going to get used to all this. We’re clearly not the people we see in our dreams, but are we really not? This is so confusing.”  
  
“Don’t I know it.” Another painting propped up against a cupboard with Jon’s art supplies of dragons in flight, breathing fire caught her eye. “For example,” Walking over to it, Dany pointed to them and said: “These are my children. Drogon, Rheagal and Viserion. And I...” She waved her arms in a flourish. “am the Mother of Dragons. How do I know that? Dragons don’t even exist.”  
  
The two of them shared a laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation they were embroiled in.  
  
“How are the dreams like for you? Are they frequent or occasional?” Jon queried.   
  
Moving over to join Jon who was stood by his work table, Dany tucked a strand of her hair that behind her ear and began recounting her life. “Since I could remember, almost every night, I would dream and see a girl who could very well be my twin. She seemed to grow along with me from a child, into a teen, into an adult. All the while, I had to witness her life.” She frowned as she recalled the nightly movies playing in her sleep. “Her life was.... hard. From being homeless to being sold by her brother, then raped by her so called husband, defiled, humiliated. It was absolutely terrifying. I still remember the dread that stayed with me long after I woke in the morning. It was almost like that all happened to me.”

“That’s horrible.” Jon empathized. He wanted desperately to reach out and hug her as he watched Dany’s arms curling around herself subconsciously. The woman beside him must have been experiencing the dread and the fear the girl from her dream experienced. Just like how the death and the pain of being stabbed still lingered in his flesh.  
  
“It was. Fortunately, she was strong, she survived it all and rose to queen of the Seven Kingdoms. I don’t think I could have survived what happened to her.” Dany sighed, a small little smile curling at her lips for the pride she felt for her dream twin. “Recently though, the dreams have been frequent but considerably less... dreary. These nights I would see snippets of the life of her and her King, your twin.” A genuine smile graced Dany’s pink lips along with a tinkling laugh.   
  
“What did you see?” Jon was eager to know.

Did she see their alter egos in love as well? They looked so happy together. Happiness was rare and hard to find. In the medieval times, even more so. From the bits of his dreams and from what Dany just told him, he could tell that neither of their dream avatars lives’ were too great, up until the King in the North met his Dragon Queen. He wondered if she also saw their more risqué activities like he did on some nights, when the heat of summer grew too unbearable leaving him aroused and frustrated under the covers. His mind conjured up images of the adventurous young rulers in bed. Boy, were they wanton. Jon cleared his throat and wedged his index finger between the collar of his shirt and his chest, pulling at his clothes. Was the room getting warmer?  
  
“Well, I saw them…” Glancing at Jon, Dany saw that his ears were turning red again. Interesting. “What are you thinking about, Mister Stark? Something naughty?” Dany narrowed her eyes at him playfully.  
  
“No.” Jon replied, his voice rose to a suspiciously higher pitch. “Just answer the question please.”  
  
Messing with him was fun, she thought as she stifled a snigger.

“As I was saying, I saw a lot of them lately, such as their first meeting, I saw them talking by a cliff and riding into battle together on the backs of their dragons. I saw the love in their eyes they had for each other. I also.... Oh.”  
  
_So that’s what he was remembering._  
  
Dany voice grew smaller as a blush rose up her neck to grace her cheeks. “Well.... I....”  
  
“Judging from your blush, you know very well what I was imaging earlier.” Jon exclaimed with a bark of laughter.   
  
“Shut up.” The young aspiring writer grumbled.“It’s not my fault that those two were so damn passionate and in love!”   
  
He couldn’t agree more. “This is all very voyeuristic isn’t it?”  
  
“Very.” Dany mused.  
  
“How do you feel knowing that we’re both going through this?” Jon couldn’t tell from her expression if she was glad or upset. He certainly was pleasantly surprised. He wasn’t alone in this confusing situation. Was she happy too?  
  
“Honestly?” Dany smiled. “I’m not too miffed about it. I think it’s pretty cool. Just imagine, we’re probably the only two people in the world going through something like this.”  
  
“It’s very likely.” The both of them stood in companionable silence for long moments before he spoke up again. “So… listen, I have an unusual request to make. I know I’ve already taken up a lot of your time and you can definitely say no. But, could I.... paint you? One day in the future… I’d like to do that.”   
  
“Me? What for?”  
  
“Sentimental reasons I suppose. To commemorate finally meeting the woman of my dreams. Well, sort of. It’s also a guise for me to keep you around a little while longer.” Bumping his shoulder with hers playfully, Jon told her. Hearing her breathe a chuckle and return the gesture, taking a leap of faith, he further professed,“I do want to get to know you as well. I want to give this weird, special connection between us a chance.”   
  
And keep you with me, if I’m lucky, forever, because I think I’m falling for you. A fairly absurd occurrence for a new acquaintance, but was this what people called love at first sight?  
  
Dany considered his request for a moment. This was not what she had foreseen at all of this holiday. However, just by spending such a short time with him, she could already tell that something was simmering between them. This dream connection they had could very well blossom into something very real and magical. There had to be a reason why they had the same dreams. Maybe spending more time together, they could figure out why this was happening.   
  
“Yeah okay. Why not?” She replied with a shrug. “This could be fun. I’ve never sat for a portrait before.”   
  
Jon beamed in delight at her. “Thank you so much, Dany!” 

“How about tomorrow? Paint me like one of those French girls if you will, Mister Stark.”

“Wha… What?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for dropping by~ Hope you guys love this update! Now that they’ve found each other, how will they navigate their unique relationship? Can they uncover the mystery of their dreams? I guess you’ll just have to read on and find out! XD


	4. Destiny?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany’s starts off her holiday in Paris officially with her own personal tour guide - a painter and a man who bore the visage of the king she sees so often in her dreams, all the while realising that her feelings for this man she had just met were growing into something much more than friendship. Jon on the other hand? Well, his affections for a certain silver gold purple eyed beauty was growing so rapidly he could hardly contain it. How will these two navigate their unusual relationship?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some new characters make an appearance in this chapter too ;). I hope you guys like my modernised version of them! Enjoy this chap~ XD

Stretching her arms in front of her, arousing the stiff muscles in her lower back and shoulders from their tense slumber, Dany let out a quiet sigh through her nose which promptly became a snigger. How did her holiday turn into this? Boarding her nine o’clock Paris bound train three mornings ago, she had expected a whirlwind trip full of tour guides and museums packed with tourists. Hence, she opted for a self-guided holiday with a map and a translator app on her phone, to take it at her own pace around this romantic city of love. 

What she never foresaw was stumbling into what could potentially be a romance of her own or meeting the man of her dreams, quite literally. Meeting him, shot all her travel plans out the window. 

That soft-spoken, drop dead gorgeous painter who followed her around the bustling market for a good half an hour before plucking up his courage to approach her now sat behind a canvas with his paintbrush in hand, painting her.

“What are you laughing about?” Jon’s dulcet voice broke through her musings. His paintbrush swirled through the cup of water by his side produced a gentle clinking noise in percussion with the glass.  
  
“Oh.... Just reminiscing about how you approached me sounding all stalker like and creepy. I had a sense of someone following me all the while at the market you know? I just never thought it would be you.” Dany threw him a teasing quirk of her lips over her bare shoulder.  

Gosh, what was up with her? For the life of her she couldn’t recall the last time she acted so brazenly in front of a man. She had strict rules set for herself. Clothes don’t come off until you’ve been with a man for at least a few months. She didn’t even know what spurred her on to suggest and insist that he paint her like this. Hell, she was even prepared to go for it in the nude! However, at the last minute, taking pity on Jon’s tomato red cheeks and oh so stammering voice, she acquiesced to at least a sheet. 

So, there she sat on a stool facing the open window that looked out onto the street below with her back to him and her head turned to the side, displaying only her side profile for him to paint. One of Jon’s cream coloured bed sheets was wrapped loosely around her naked body.

Something was budding between the two of them. Something, Dany couldn’t quite define but she wasn’t sure she wanted to curtail her drift. Haplessly, like a moth drifting to a flame ignited with a stroke of a match. She genuinely liked Jon. Curious that she would think of a mere stranger that way. Despite the unusual circumstance surrounding their meeting, it felt completely effortless, peaceful almost to be around him. This broody, eccentric, artistic man that she’d only just met two and a half days ago. His presence just felt right, like he’d been in her life since forever. 

_Did he feel that way too?_

Jon lifted his head from his work to shoot her a retort and his words got caught in his throat. The sun rays of dusk shone through the open wooden shutters of his windows, formed an iridescent halo around her, casting her side profile in shadow. The sun bathed her alabaster skin in a hue of the softest, warmest shroud of gold. She was absolutely stunning, so radiant under the shower of light. The ends of her wavy locks barely grazed the tops of her shoulders which he longed to run his fingers through and down along the length of her slender neck. He longed to kiss every inch of the creamy smooth expanse of her back and every other patch of skin he could uncover if he had the chance to. He was clueless as to why he was feeling the way he felt for someone he was just newly acquainted with, but he had no intentions of curbing this dive. 

Realizing that he’d been openly ogling her for a while now, Jon blinked himself out of his reverie. “I am not a stalker and I wasn’t trying to be. I was simply shocked. How would you react if you saw someone who looked identical to the person who invaded your sleep every night?” He countered with a huff.   
  
“It does seem rather outrageous. Why do you think this is happening to us, Jon?” Dany asked, holding the sheet to her chest as she swivelled around on her stool to face him proper.   
  
Resting his hands still holding his paint brush and palette on his knees, Jon chewed on his lower lip in contemplation. Why, indeed? Riding dragons? Commanding armies? Ruling over kingdoms? All things impossible in this day and age.  
  
“I don’t really know why. But, what if… What if these dreams aren’t dreams at all? What if they were repressed memories?” Jon pondered out loud.   
  
“Memories?” Dany asked with her eyebrows a furrow. Was that possible? “Even if they were, where are they coming from? I don’t remember ever being a queen. Have you ever ruled a kingdom?”   
  
“No.” Jon chuckled. “Hear me out here, I have a theory.” Licking his lips, he continued, “Do you believe in destiny, Dany?”  
  
“Destiny?”  
  
“In these so-called dreams, we were together as a couple. Or at least from what we’ve seen thus far.” Placing his tools on his work table, Jon got up and began pacing to and fro across the hard wood floor before the object of his painting as he voiced his thoughts. “Do you believe that two souls that are so intricately linked, could meet again and again in every lifetime?”  
  
“That sounds very romantic and something out of a movie or the fiction section in a book store.” Dany considered the notion for a beat. “Which admittedly, would be truly amazing if it happened in real life. A bit too good to be true perhaps. You think.... that these connected souls, as you put it include ours?”  
  
“I mean... that would explain why we look just like the king and queen. Maybe the images of these two people’s history serve as bread crumbs in a way, to show us that our meeting was meant to be,” Jon exclaimed, coming to a stop in front of her. “Maybe we were supposed to find one another?”

Maybe the reason why he felt the need to emboss his dreams as paintings was so he wouldn’t forget them, so he could have hope that one day he would find his Dany. All his life he had spent each day with a sense of anticipation, tethering on the edge of an unseen cliff, just waiting for something to happen or someone to appear to kickstart his life for good. Maybe she was that catalyst.

“And if we were meant to find one another?” His fingers found their way to his hair, combing through the springy strands. “I imagine that it’s quite possible for us to become more than just friends even!”  
  
His pacing steps grew narrower, each swivel from one end of his carpet to the other got tighter as his train of thoughts transformed into words spewing out in a torrent. Watching from her stool, Dany pursed her plump lips together, trying to hold back her mirthful grin at him.

“I have to say, this is a most bizarre situation. Nevertheless, it’s.... possible. It could happen, yes. I think. Not immediately but eventually?” Jon rambled on, his hands gesturing away as his mouth ran ahead of his mind. “Hopefully?” He added so quietly as a forethought that Dany could only just hear it.

_Oh dear lord._

The painter’s mouth hung open as realisation caught up with his babbling mouth. He froze. Did he just blurt out his secret inner musings to the woman of his dreams? Did he just admit to the likelihood of falling in love with her?

Arching an eyebrow at him, she watched as Jon’s cheeks took on a pink tinge in embarrassment which spread up and outwards like fire blown by wind, to the tip of his ears. Securing the sheet around her with a double knot, tightly around her chest, Dany rose to kneel on her stool so that she was eye to eye with the man whose cheeks were not unlike two apples ripe for the plucking. She couldn’t hold her smile back anymore. Her grin lit up her whole face, crinkling her eyes. Twining her arms around Jon’s neck, she reeled him to her for a hug with a giddy smile upon her lips. “Jon Stark, you are such a sweetheart. Has anyone told you that before?”  
  
Cheeks aflame, Jon lifted his arms from his side, hands hesitantly hovering over her body before slowly wrapping them around her, one arm around her shoulders and the other around her waist. Through the thin sheet around her, he could feel the heat radiating from her lithe body. She was so small, evoking a strong instinct in him to protect her and keep her safe. Never had he felt this way before about a woman.  
  
“Why does it feel as if I’ve been waiting for you to come into my life? Yet, at the same time, it’s almost like you’ve been here by my side?”Unable to resist, Jon nuzzled the side of her head, enjoying the softness of her hair, inhaling the scent of strawberries from her fruity shampoo. He tightened his arms just a little bit more around her.

“I have no answers for those questions.” Dany smiled indulgently at his ardent words. “What I do know is that it’s the same for me too. With you, I feel… secure. In a way, like a shoe that I never knew I was waiting for had dropped.” Stretching her fingers to toy with the ends of his unruly hair at the nape of his neck, she confessed. “Being with you is just so comfortable. It’s funny, I know close to nothing about you and yet you’re not a stranger to me. Not really.”   
  
Jon’s warm breath washed over the side of her head in a sigh of relief. She felt the same way! “This is all so damn messed up. All we have are questions upon questions that need resolving. You are the only thing that makes sense amongst it all.”   
  
Dany replied nodding in agreement, her chin digging slightly into Jon’s shoulder. “I guess, we just have a special kind of connection huh?”   
  
“Yes, I suppose we do.” Smiling, stroking along the tumbling waves of silky curls under his fingers tenderly, he relished in the softness and warmth emanating from the woman in his embrace. She belonged there, in his arms. Those limbs attached to his body since birth were crafted specifically to hold her. He was quite confident about that.  
  
Hands gliding gently over her back and waist to grasp her shoulders, unwilling to leave her personal space just yet, Jon extracted himself slowly away for Dany’s hug. “I do have something to admit.”  
  
“What is it?” She asked, her violet eyes alit with curiosity.   
  
“Someone told me that you were coming here and that I should find you.”   
  
“Really? Who?”  
  
“Believe it or not, the fortune teller lady who owns a shop at the corner, just down the street.”   
  
“What did she say?” Maybe she had an inkling into their dreams and this pull they felt between them. “Does she know why our dreams seem to converge? Why we see similar events playing out in our heads in our sleep?”  
  
“I was too mystified to ask I’m afraid. She just told me and I quote, to find you at a place where many people traverse and sell their wares.” Jon’s thumb ran in lazy circles along the skin of Dany’s arm. It really was as smooth as he thought it would be.  
  
Dany rested her palms on his chest, letting his words settle around them. “Fortune tellers and dreams? This is sounding very Harry Potter like. How is this happening in our reality?”   
  
Grabbing her shoulders, Jon gave her a light shake, plucking a laugh from her lips. “Sure feels real enough to me.” Tucking her back into the encirclement of his arms, he whispered: “In all seriousness? If this is fate, I’m not going to question why and how you entered my life.  I like you, Dany.”   
  
“Gosh, you say the sappiest things!” The young writer poked at Jon’s chest, a grin pulling at her lips. There was no denying, she was beginning to enjoy being with this man. 

The two of them allowed the warmth of their hug to wrap them up in a suspended blissful bubble in time, just for a while. The hustle and bustle from the street downstairs floated in through the open shutters of the balcony windows, growing in volume as the street came to life for the evening.   
  
“Will you join me on this, albeit a bit strange journey of discovery?” Jon offered quietly, a niggle of apprehensive of what Dany would do materialised in him. He hoped she would agree. “I want to see where we end up.” This _thing_ betwixt them was already so palpable, he didn’t want it to go to unexplored. He didn’t want to let her go. If he did, he knew instinctively that he would regret it the rest of his days.   
  
Patting him idly on the chest, Dany contemplated his invitation. Surprisingly, the thought of being with a stranger, spending her two-week holiday with him, sharing who she was, her life and potentially revealing the soft underbelly of herself so to speak wasn’t something she was afraid of.

Could she go along with this? Let their relationship grow and unfurl? What was she to do if they truly were to end up breaching that line between friends and lovers eventually? She’d always been wary about men after the heartbreak in her past. Would she go along with it? Would she be able to stop herself before it got there? _Did_ she want to stop?

_No._

Jon was different, she knew it in her soul. She could trust him, she knew it. If he wanted to hurt her, he would have done so already. For the first time in her life, she so badly wanted to let this man in. She craved for him to peel away all of the walls around her heart and see _her_.

With her mind made up, Dany acquiesced to his request with a cheerfully resolute, “Let’s!”

At her reply, an elated laugh came rushing out of his lungs in an exhale. Tightening his arms around her once more he gave her a squeeze, before swaying her from side to side. Burying her face into the crook of his neck, Dany’s tinkle of a laughter harmonized with his. A sliver of excitement swam through her veins. 

_Yes._

This was the right choice. Besides, he wouldn’t make a bad companion to embark on this foray into a truly unconventional, almost backwards moving relationship, being the eye candy that he was.   
  
“Jon?”  
  
“Yeah?”

 With his face stuck in her hair, the vibration from his voice tickled the side of her head, making Dany squirm a little.  
  
“I have a request for you.”   
  
“Name it.”   
  
“Could you please be my tour guide for the duration I’m here?” Dany enquired. Her voice a muffled bunch of words as her lips moved against Jon’s shoulder.   
  
_Duration she was here._

He really wished she didn’t have to leave. He was beginning to dread it already! But… if she did, they’d still be together. One way or another, be it as friends or something more, he’d make sure of it.

“Sure. Let’s start with dinner, why don’t we?”

Outside, the sun had retired for the night and the city waking up with its shops, beckoning the night time crowd to enter with their warmth and cheery glow of fluorescent, neon and candle lights.

“That sounds like a great plan. Thank you very much.”  

* * *

“Just come out when you’re dressed. I’m going to get changed myself, then we’ll head out. I know just the place to take you.” Jon told his guest as he ushered her into his bathroom with a palm poised at the small of her back.

  
“I’m hungry already.” Offering her host a small smile that lifted the corner of her lips, Dany said to him, armed with her clothing, clutched to her chest. The sheet around her body glided soundlessly along the spotless tiled floor as her bare feet carried her into the bathroom adjoining the kitchen.  
  
“I’ll leave you to it then, my queen.”Presenting Dany with a cheeky bow, the painter pulled the door close behind him, giving her some privacy to change. Her resounding laughter tickled his ears. He tried not to envision her slender, naked curves being revealed just behind the door. Quickly ducking into his bedroom, he set out to pick out his clothes for the night.   
  
His well worn and well loved paint spattered work tee shirt was tugged over his head and off his body, finding purchase on the back of the leather arm chair at the corner of his room with a toss of his hand. Padding towards the wardrobe, he flung open the doors.   
  
Would this be considered a first date of sorts?  
  
Riffling through the collection of clothes he had brought with him from home, his heart doing a happy little dance. Settling on a clean white button-down dress shirt, he plucked it off its hanger. Even if it wasn’t, he had to look presentable for the woman he’d be taking out for the evening. Jon slipped his arms through the sleeves, flipped the collar the right way around and did up the buttons, all the while with a dopey smile on his face.   
  
In the bathroom, Dany was just the same. Her reflection in the mirror wore an equally smitten smile. Brushing aside a few strands of her hair away from her face, revealed a pair of violet eyes that gleamed with an eagerness that she hadn’t seen or felt in a long time. The flutter in her belly, the slight skip in her heart made her feel like a teenage girl in the presence of her first crush. Catching a giddy giggle with her fingers pressed to her lips, she exited the bathroom donned in her clothes once more and a grin on her face to top off her look.

* * *

On a street corner half a block away from Jon’s flat, sat The Baking Onion. It’s innards of tables and chairs spilled out onto the paved terrace outside. In the middle of each circular table was a tealight candle enclosed within a mason jar, cradling a flame that bobbed like boats upon a sea of moving shadows as they flickered. Couples and families out for dinner under the stars huddled around the tables with the glow of the street lights to light their way through their meals. The homey scene posed as a lure to the lonely souls wandering the streets in seek of the warm comfort of a meal.

Jerking on the sleeve of Jon’s shirt, Dany had to ask: “It looks really busy tonight. Do you think we’ll get a table?”  
  
“Don’t you worry, milady. I’ve got it covered.” The mysterious twinkle in Jon’s eyes piqued her curiosity. Up went one of her brows as her eyes searched his but no further elaborate came, only a hand extending toward the brass door handle. “In you go now.” Tugging the door open with on hand and the palm of his other effortlessly finding that familiar space at the base of Dany back, Jon gave her a little push, jostling a chuckle from her.  
  
Passing through the entryway the first thing that hit her nose was the yeasty, sweet aroma of freshly baked bread. The smell permeated all through the cozy interior of the cafe. Some say that certain smells were linked to episodic memories and emotions. In that moment a bittersweet twang rippled across her heartstrings. Dany pictured her four year old self standing on the tip of her toes on a step stool, flour smattered face all scrunched up in concentration. She could almost feel the ghost of her Grammy’s warm, weathered hands teaching her clumsy littler ones the motions of kneading as best as she could without laughing. Now that that little chubby girl was all grown up, her grandmother had aged considerably too. It had been years since they last baked together due to Arthritis being a constant companion in her joints. Dany made a mental note to give her Grammy a call soon to say hello and remind her that she loved her again.   
  
To the right, just passed the cashier were shelves upon shelves of baked goods. At a glimpse, loaves of bread, brioche buns and baguette rolls were on display for purchase. An assortment of pastries from the savory golden brown croissants to the sweet rainbow coloured macarons glistened under the warm indoor lighting. From where she stood, behind a ‘wait to be seated’ sign with Jon, looking to the left of the entrance was more room for customers to dine. Like the outside, the tables seemed to be filled too. Dany could see why the place was brimming with people. The relaxing atmosphere alone invoked a sense of home in her, bringing forth an involuntary smile to her lips. It made you want to stay and have a good time. She loved this place already and from the looks of the dishes being served by the bustling wait staff, she had a feeling she was in for a treat.  
  
Just then, a distinct feminine voice carrying a French accented lilt floated above all the chatter. “Monsieur Jon! You’re here! And with a lady!” A robust woman with dark brown hair in a braid that matched her dark brown eyes came bustling through from the dining area with an empty tray in her hand. A gasp burst forth from the lady. Rushing over, she promptly gathered the two of them up in a bear like but affectionate hug, tray and all, startling Dany and squeezing a laugh out of Jon.   
  
“Good evening to you, Marya.” Jon greeted his friend fondly with kisses to her cheeks after she released them.   
  
“Since your call, everyone’s been so curious about who you would be coming with!” Marya gave him pecks in return.

Pulling back, the woman’s eyes darted towards Dany. The inquisitive sparkle within them had a wave of heat rising to her cheeks. It was as if she were meeting her date’s parents for the first time.  
  
“You know, Jon comes here almost every other day but he has never come with someone else before. You must be a special someone and I can see why. You are beautiful, mademoiselle.”  
  
“That’s very nice of you to say. I’m Dany. It’s good to meet you.”   
  
“Enchante, Dany. I am Marya Seaworth.” Shifting the serving tray to her left hand, she took Dany’s proffered right one in hers. “I run this little cafe with my husband, the chef. Come. Come! I’ll show you to your table. Patting Jon on his cheek jovially, in a motherly manner, she gave him an extra wink before leading the way. “Wait till Davos sees the two of you! He will be so happy.”  
  
Trailing a few paces behind Marya, Jon and Dany shared sheepish grins. Both of them if not a little flushed.

Meandering single file around a babbling baby in a high chair, a woman laughing with her head thrown back at a joke her husband cracked, Marya brought them towards the back of the dining area where a table for two had been set up with a reserved placard placed in the middle of the table, just beside a lonesome man nursing a glass of red wine in the corner. Two menus were placed in between their cutlery, awaiting to be opened for a choice of food to be selected.Lifting the placard off the table and tucking it into the pocket stitched into the apron around her waist, Marya waved them into their seats on opposite sides of the table.  
  
“Take your time perusing the menu. Someone will be back to take your order when you’re ready.” With a kindly smile and a pat on Dany’s arm, she added, “And it is such a pleasure to have you here, love.” The plump lady then backtracked the way they came, weaving through the tables with practiced ease, sharing a quick chat or answering any requests her patrons had along the way.  
  
Slipping her purse off her shoulder, Dany hung it on the side of her chair.   
“You’re a regular here? Hence, the in with the boss?”  
  
“You could say that. Mister Davos is a good friend of mine. I found this place shortly after moving here whilst scouting for good food places. He’s an Irish man, you see, who hadn’t been back home in a long while not since marrying a French woman, his one true love and settling down here. I guess we bonded over our homesickness in a way? Oh, and food. After that first croissant I purchased from them, the Seaworths more or less adopted me. Marya makes the best croissants this part of Paris, you just can’t help coming back for more. I’ll treat you to some one of these days.”  
  
Catching a hold of Jon’s cuff, Dany gave it a playful yank. “I’ll hold you to it.” 

* * *

Over the course of the night, customers came and went, bellies full and their spirits high, our budding lovers hardly noticed at all, too busy chatting about anything and nothing. Then, shortly after, their food was all they could focus on. A delicious meal of onion soup, duck confit and lamb shank navarin breezed by all too quickly and before Jon and Dany knew it, they were leisurely sipping on their glasses of red, waiting for their dessert to arrive.

“Well... well! Look who the cat dragged in!” A man in a chef’s uniform appeared by their table. The man had short salt and pepper hair and a beard with streaks of white intermingling with the black framing his chin and jawline. His blue eyes, perched above a sharp nose seemed to smile down at the two of them as he held a serving tray aloft. On his tray sat a crème brûlée for Jon and a warm slice of apple galette for Dany.   
  
“Only your favourite customer, Davos.” In his best deadpan voice, Jon said to the man by their table as the chef gently placed the delicious smelling ramekin of cooked cream in front of Jon.  
  
“My favourite customer and his date!” Placing the delicate slice of pastry, wafting of cinnamon and apple before Dany, the man gave her a polite nod. “My wife, Marya told me your name is Dany. It’s wonderful to meet you, miss.”

Looking up at the chef, Dany returned his greeting. “Good to meet you too.”

 Davos nudged Jon in the arm with his tray. “How could you not have told me you found a girlfriend? And one this attractive?” 

“It was a fairly unexpected development.” 

The chef noted in interest at the way Jon ducked his head down in scrutiny of the hardened layer of caramelized sugar coating his dessert. The spoon in his grasp tapped, tapped, tapped away at the sugar layer.

“Mhmm... Sure. Sure. Marya and I, everyone here! We’ve been waiting for you to find love. How could you not have told us that you had?”

“Trust me, Davos, I’m just as pleasantly surprised at this outcome as you. We only met a few days ago!”

Reaching for the fork that came with her tart, Dany bit her bottom lip to stop the grin from breaking free as her cheeks turned a rosy pink. As the two friends bickered away, Dany noticed that Jon did nothing to deny her significance to him. Despite being aware of the budding affection he had growing for her, smiling down at her tart, she found that she was relieved and so very happy of that. In a way, it was a proof that if she were to fall for him, he would be there, ready to receive her. She wasn’t just a friend to him anymore now that their new adventure was afoot. 

As the dinner crowd around them dwindled down to just a few remaining stragglers, dotting the tables around the dining space, Jon decided to ask Davos to sit down and join them for the remainder of their meal. Looking to Dany, he asked her if she minded to which she met him with a smile and a shake of her head.

“Alright then, if your lady doesn’t mind, I’ll just go and make sure Hot Pie can manage without me. Then, I’ll be right back with you.”

Davos returned shortly with a drink in hand. “While you eat, let me tell you about how this restaurant came to be, why don’t I?”  
  
“Here we go.” Chuckling, Jon was overcome by the compulsion to roll his eyes. He had heard that story just about a million times that he could recite every word. Lifting a spoonful of custard to his mouth, he diverted his attention to observing Dany’s reactions instead. She was going to love this, he just knew it.  
  
Ignoring him entirely, Davos dragged a chair over from the empty table beside them. “Back in the day when we were both exuberant youths, we had a chance encounter at her school. She was a pastry chef in training while I was well...” His eyes darted around the restaurant, glancing over his unassuming customers as if checking whether any eavesdroppers were listening in on them before continuing in a hush voice, “a smuggler.”  
  
That took Dany by surprise. Jon smirked indulgently at her adorable expression. A mouthful of tart, a speck of pastry by the corner of her lips, her dark brows rose up so high, they could have touched her hairline. Mid chew, her wide lavender eyes found his, silently asking if what Davos said was the truth. His answer was a firm nod in affirmation.   
  
“A truffle smuggler to precise.” He took a sip from his glass of brandy to prep his vocal chords before continuing with his regaling of the escapades of his youth. “One of the jobs I had to do was acquire a particular exquisite,  two pound white truffle. The less fragrant black truffles don’t cost as much. But these white ones? They are, not to mention rarer to find but much more aromatic. They bring out the flavour of pretty much any cuisine you want to cook. It is a true delicacy. Getting your hands on even just a tiny amount would earn you at least a few thousand pounds. Higher if sold at an auction or better, the black market.”   
  
The cubes of ice in his glass clinked as he placed it down on the table. Getting into the thick of his tale, Davos scooted forward in his seat all the better to face his captivated audience, mainly the wide eyed, silver haired lady with her large pretty eyes. His other audience member on the other hand, paid no mind to him at all. His painter friend was devoted to watching his lady date instead.  
  
“Now, I was tasked by my boss to acquire said truffle from within its encasement inside a glass case on the mantelpiece of the headmaster’s office at the Le Cordon Bleu Paris, Academy of Culinary Arts, Hospitality and Management. Not an easy job if I may say so myself.”  
  
Not taking her eyes off their storyteller, Dany breathed an empathetic, “No....”  
  
“So there I was, on my knees by the door with my lock pick in hand and a ear poised for listening to the clicks of the tumblers. I was concentrating on my task so fully that I didn’t even notice someone creeping up on me. Until! I found myself blacked out, face first on the ground.”  
  
“Your would-be wife hit you?” With a snigger, Dany ventured a guess. Chasing the last bits of apple and buttery puff pastry around her plate with her plate, she popped it into her mouth.

“Yes! With her rolling pin! To the back of my head!”   
  
“Marya is a very sharp lady. She always knows when you’re up to no good, my friend.” Jon laughed. “After she nursed you to health of course.” He truly admired what Davos and Marya had. They were a loving couple with no lack of that spark that drew them together in the first place. 

To have a love strong enough to last decades? That took a lot of commitment and a bond so strong that no hurricane could tear it apart. Deep down inside, Jon wished for something like that. To have a love that could handle the challenges of life and yet, retain all the playfulness that came with a woman he could just be free around. His eyes wandered to the lady sitting just across from him.

 _Someone like her, perhaps?_  
  
“Aye. That’s my Marya. She keeps me on the straight and narrow, constantly pushing me towards a better future rather than sticking around with my old ways.” The chef recalled the way those deep brown eyes of his wife upon a younger face bore into his as she made him a deal. “Meeting her opened a whole new venue of life for me.”

 _If you promise me that you won’t smuggle anymore? I won’t call the police to come and take you in._

_Alright._

And for some reason, he kept his word to her.  
  
“Even after a decade and a child together, she still continues to surprise me every day. I found a love for cooking through the food she prepared and I will always remember the first dish she made for me. It was a bowl of French onion soup. A classic, French cuisine. Simple but delicious.” A figure moving outside the window caught the chef’s eyes, a sight that made his lips tip up into a smile. It was the smiling face of his beautiful wife, shining so bright in her element. The passion for her work, for food, ensured that that love was present in the café’s hospitality and in everything she did. “All I can say is that I am one lucky bastard. I count my blessings every minute of the day I have her by my side.”  
  
Realizing that his friend was otherwise preoccupied, Jon added in a little tidbit to their tale. “He even named this place in honour of their love, after the pastry chef he fell in love with and a bowl of onion soup that he would never forget. The Baking Onion.”   
  
“Oh wow.” Dany’s heart melted like ice under the sun into a puddle as she listened. With her chin propped up between the cusps of her two hands, Dany thought back to the bowl of soup she had for dinner. It was absolutely scrumptious. A combination of flavours, earthy, savory and sweet with the taste of fully caramelized onions, topped with melted cheese composed a beautiful symphony across her palate. Did it taste different imbued with a special ingredient called love when Davos first had it?

A love like theirs sounded akin to something out of those novels that her father’s company published. Reminiscent of those of the romantic comedy type that lined a large portion of her shelves back in her London bedroom. Comedic but still so heartfelt. A twinge of envy plucked at her heart. She longed to have something like that, to have a relationship with a man that was fun and one where she was free to love as herself. Sensing eyes on her, she glanced up to find a pair of chocolate brown orbs watching her from across the table. Smiling at her painter, she thought to herself.

 _Someone like him would be nice._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh this chapter took me a good while to finish smh. I originally planned it to be around 4k words but somehow it ended up being much longer. Sorry for the long wait you guys! I hope it was worth it though.
> 
> The bakery was a really fun bit to write hehe. I could see it in my head tbh. And the Seaworths were really fun too! They'll be popping up in the future chapters quite a bit if I can help it hehe. Plus, you guys haven't met their child! 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Do let me know what you guys think of this chapter in the comments! Let us see where our babies end up shall we? :)

**Author's Note:**

> So.... please don't hate me eeee! I promise this story is a real fluffy one from the here on out! I'll upload the next chapter very soon! Keep reading please! XD I promise it's all gonna be fine hehe! 
> 
> Do tell me your thoughts in the comments below if you can hehe. See ya soon~ Thanks for reading!


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